


Dark Places

by cosmic_llin



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Captivity, Character of Faith, Episode Related, Gen, Meditation, Religions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-08
Updated: 2011-06-08
Packaged: 2017-10-20 06:10:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/209596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmic_llin/pseuds/cosmic_llin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winn Adami sits in darkness for a day, and thinks about Opaka and the Prophets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Places

**Author's Note:**

> Characters do not belong to me, I am making no profit.
> 
> Many thanks to sophiegrace for the very helpful beta.

_I once asked Kai Opaka why a disbeliever was destined to seek the Prophets, and she told me one should never look into the eyes of one's own gods. I disagreed. I told her I would do anything to look into their eyes. She suggested that I sit in darkness for a day and quite properly so. She cannot be replaced and I miss her deeply._

_\- Winn Adami, In the Hands of the Prophets_

 

When word arrived from Deep Space Nine that the Kai had decided on a whim to visit the Celestial Temple for herself, Adami's heart tightened for a moment, treacherously. To be so close to the Prophets, to be with them in a way that so few had – the thought of it was overwhelming, that was all. Oh, there was nothing of envy in it. Only that it might have been more fitting to make a ceremony of it, to bring along some of the senior vedeks for such an important moment in Bajoran history, to mark it with prayers and flags and an appropriate degree of solemnity.

 

But then, that wasn't the way Kai Opaka did things. She carried on just the way she had during the Occupation, – quietly, humbly, spreading the message of the Prophets, a word, a hug, a blessing at a time.

 

Adami thought that was wonderful. Of course she did. But the Occupation was over now. It was up to the vedeks to help show the people of Bajor how they had once been, and how they could become again – a dignified people, a worthy people. She wondered that the Kai didn't seem to realise that.

 

She sighed, and shook her head. The thought was unworthy of her, and her own temper was more to blame than the Kai's behavior.

 

She and Opaka had disagreed often, since Sisko had come, and the last time very recently. It was difficult for her to understand how Opaka had so readily accepted a stranger as the Emissary of the Prophets, but the evidence – the entrance to the Celestial Temple – was too much to ignore. She had behaved childishly, questioned Sisko's right to be recognized, questioned the very Prophets themselves. Kai Opaka had only tried to show her the wisdom of trusting them.

 

She resolved to tell Opaka once she returned that she had thought carefully about her words and seen the truth of them. Having made the decision, she already felt a little better.

 

* * *

 

There was a farewell service. It seemed wrong to call it a memorial when Opaka was still out there somewhere. Sisko came to pay his respects, along with hundreds of thousands of Bajorans.

 

Vedek Bareil led the ceremony, as was fitting. He had been Kai Opaka's protege and closest confidant. Already there were whispers that he would be the next Kai.

 

He certainly seemed suited to it. Like Kai Opaka, he had a gentle way with people, and his pagh was strong. Adami went to him after the service.

 

'My condolences,' she said. 'I know how close you and Opaka were.'

 

He nodded. 'Thank you. It is strange to be here without her. I'll miss her very much. As I'm sure all of her people will.'

 

'I certainly will miss her, very much,' Adami said, and her voice wavered a little.

 

He frowned at her. 'Vedek Winn, is something wrong? You seem troubled.'

 

'I doubted the Kai,' she told him, tearfully. 'The last time we spoke, I disagreed with her.'

 

'Did you part angrily?' he asked.

 

She shook her head. 'No, not angrily exactly. I would never be uncivil to her. But I confess – in my heart I believed she was wrong. I believed I knew better what was right, what was the will of the Prophets.'

 

'Even a Kai isn't infallible,' Bareil pointed out gently. 'Kai Opaka knew that you respected and loved her. She wouldn't take your disagreement to heart.'

 

'I still wish there was some way I could make peace with her,' Adami sighed.

 

'Perhaps,' Bareil said, 'the best thing you can do is to consider what she said to you and ponder its meaning. Whether or not you come to agree with her, meditating on her wisdom is a fitting tribute.’

 

Adami nodded. 'She told me I ought to sit in darkness for a day.'

 

'Then perhaps that is what you should do.'

 

* * *

 

There were rooms set aside for quiet meditation, and she chose one of the windowless ones. She took not even a single lamp, nor a timepiece to let her know when the day would be over. She made sure that she would not be disturbed. There was room here only for herself, the Prophets and the darkness. And Opaka.

 

The dark and the quiet were soothing at first. It had been some days since there had been a chance to be alone. Her spirit felt ragged and battered – although the official mourning period was over, Opaka's absence was a constant ache. As much as she had disagreed with Opaka when it came to Sisko – not to mention everything from her methods to her interpretation of scripture and her view of the will of the Prophets – she had loved and revered her.

 

Opaka had always had a way of helping others to see what their path should be. More than a few times her gentle advice had led Adami to revelations that had helped her to become a better Vedek and a better woman. What had Opaka hoped she might gain from this experience?

 

She shivered. The darkness was absolute. The longer it lasted, the more it reminded her uncomfortably of her imprisonment by the Cardassians. Often they had left her in darkness for hours and days on end, for the amusement of laughing at her if she asked for a candle. In the end she had learned not to ask.

 

Anger and hatred sometimes had gotten the better of her, at those times, but she would remind herself that the Prophets would not let this happen to her if she was unable to handle it. There were lessons to be learned from hardship. There was wisdom in enduring humiliation. She learned to be serene when they took her candle away, to consider these times a gift, a chance for contemplation, a chance to remember that the Light of the Prophets meant infinitely more than a guttering flame in a bare cell ever could.

 

Perhaps this was what Opaka had wanted her to understand: Bajor, shrouded in darkness. The devastation the Cardassians had wrought, the confusion brought by the Federation, Bajoran fighting against Bajoran in the struggle to rebuild.

 

It was all insignificant compared with the light of the Prophets. The beacon of truth that she must carry for them all – now that she understood.

 

* * *

 

When she finally emerged, the sunlight hurt her eyes. But she didn't blink, didn't squint, didn’t try to make it easier on herself. This was the message. The way to enlightenment would not be easy, would not be achieved in tiny, manageable steps for the fearful. Bajor, hiding in the darkness these fifty years, would have to step into a new dawn without hesitation.

 

Her eyes burned. She didn't care.

 

With Opaka's blessing, she would be the one to lead them there.


End file.
